


For the Record

by Ennead



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-04
Updated: 2009-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-24 09:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennead/pseuds/Ennead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan demonstrates to Charles the rewards of patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Record

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after Season 2 ended and before Season 3 aired. It is intended to be set some time before the events of the Season 2 finale, for any difference that that may make. 
> 
> I do not own Metalocalypse and make no profit from my fan work.

Charles had always wondered what Nathan would be like in bed. Passively, at first, but after a while his imagination would get away from him with the most inappropriate of fantasies. He'd assumed it would be a rough, highly-charged experience; Nathan was so big, so full of raw power, and he had to put that somewhere, didn't he? Many of Charles' evenings in bed or the shower were spent imagining how the frontman would conduct himself between the sheets, unrestrained and in charge.

He'd never once imagined... this.

For all his bulk and strength, Nathan was shockingly gentle. His hands caressed Charles is if he were a rare thing that could be broken, fingers skating over his skin and raising shivers in the smaller man. That snarling mouth was soft, careful, and ever so inviting against his neck and ear, rather than fiercely biting as Charles had expected. His eyes betrayed caring and tenderness never seen outside of the bedroom.

Yet for all this, his natural intensity was not lost. All of his focus and energy was set on Charles' body, the manager his centre of attention. Every touch, every kiss, every drag of his tongue or of a wayward touch, was done with pleasure in mind. When Nathan put his mind to something, really wanted to do it, by god it got done, and at that moment he was bending his focus to make Charles writhe. 

It had been over an hour and the manager was losing his mind.

He'd come into it expecting a raw, fast tumble and gotten nothing of the sort. He'd expected release with no delay, but did not find it. Rather he was pinned to the sheets by a lack of coordination, doubting he could even sit up should the desire strike him. With an almost curious air, Nathan had set about exploring his skin, leaving him covered in searing, invisible marks where the edges of his evaded orgasm waited to surface. It was too much, had been too much all along-- and it was only too much because it was not nearly enough. 

"Nathan, please--!"

The singer lifted his head, a black lock falling from behind his ear as he grinned. "Please?"

"Can't you just... can't I... it's been..."

"Nice sentence you got there, Charles," Nathan laughed, licking his inner thigh carefully and making him squirm. "But it's not time yet."

"It's time! It's been time! I need it!"

"No."

And that was that. Every time he reached down to try to relieve his aching erection, to even touch it for a moment, large hands gently but firmly intercepted him. Not once had he been able to get his hands on himself. It was devastating to his sanity, and he felt himself coming apart at the seams. Could he be driven insane with wanting and waiting? Was it possible? At that moment he felt it could be. 

He knew better than to get his hopes up as a wet finger teased him. It had been there a few times already, only coaxing false relief from his addled brain. A few more strokes to his prostate would only make the situation worse, it wouldn't be enough to finally push him over the edge. How Nathan maintained the hellish, wonderful balance was beyond him. All the touches were too light, but just right. Charles moaned quietly as the finger sank into him a little, more kisses peppering his thighs and crotch, all of it so overwhelmingly crafted to make him want it. When would it end?

Nathan's shadow fell over him, and he glanced down, blinking a droplet of sweat from his eye and staring in disbelief. He watched, as if in a dream, as the singer slicked his far less desperate member with a bemused half-smile on his face. He didn't know what his own expression was, but hazarded a guess at 'insane with wanting'. Charles' legs spread eagerly as Nathan leaned over him, resting a giant arm next to the smaller man's head. 

"Feeling good?," he asked, and Charles felt his low voice rumbling through both of their chests. They were so close, and every inch of the singer's body that touched his own was driving him even crazier. Their skin felt almost fused with the heat between them, and the one thing he needed, really craved, still hadn't happened. He groaned in frustration and ground his aching, weak hips against Nathan's own. 

"I feel..." Charles attempted, finding no words. He made a desperate face. "Please."

Agonizingly slowly, Nathan sank inside. He barely moved at times, savouring the look on Charles' face as he teetered between sane and crazy. The smaller man gaped, head pressed into the sweat-damp pillow and eyelids heavy, as if he had never felt pleasure before in his life. It was this expression that Nathan had been seeking to achieve, this level of satisfaction at the simplest of acts, and he stilled completely once he was fully inside Charles. Beneath him, that toned body pressed upwards, breath coming quickly and making his chest heave. Waiting, clearly, was not something the CFO was used to doing. 

Nathan pinned Charles' hips with his own, preventing him from moving in the slightest. He studied that face, reveling in the beautiful, desperate thing he had created. Once he had taken a good, long look, he lifted his hips and - finally - set to work ending it. 

As the pace quickened, staying steady and deep, Charles misplaced all ability for thought. He couldn't cry out Nathan's name, or words at all, because the very concept of language was forgotten to him. His every perception was Nathan; the warmth of his body, the soft hair curtaining around their faces, the lips on his neck and the perfect cock he had waited through a false forever to feel. He lost himself in a world of Nathan.

What came next put ordinary orgasms to shame, and reduced him to a shuddering ragdoll. His shout rang through the room, pure ecstasy, and was the last thing he heard before slipping into exhaustion. He couldn't bear to exist after that; he was simply out of commission.

Nathan cleaned them both up and inspected his handiwork. He lay down next to his manager, slipping beneath the covers, and put his mouth to Charles' ear. 

"For the record, I tried."


End file.
